In Victory
by Equestrienne Dreams
Summary: Episode tag to "Long Shot", in which Sharon sheds her armor and a celebration is had. Hints at Flynn/Raydor but nothing explicit.


He found her curled on a bench in the rooftop garden, face in her hands, shaking like a leaf.

She'd fled when it was over, hands already trembling, tears ready to spill over. "Yes, of course, call me when you leave," she'd said to Rusty when the squad had offered to take him out for dinner at the local diner. He'd heard the wobble in her voice, known she was about to lose it, told Provenza to go ahead without him, he'd join them there.

Rusty had a cheerful Major Crimes surrounding him, laughing and joking, ready to celebrate their success, because they'd _won._

But she hadn't had anyone, and if anyone needed him now, it was Sharon Raydor.

"Aren't you supposed to be out celebrating with the others?"

She'd spoken without turning around, and he almost jumped – he hadn't thought she knew he was there.

But who was he kidding? She knew everything.

"Looked to me like he's not the only one who could use some company," he replied easily, trying for unruffled, but not sure if he made it. One of them had to be calm.

She let out a wet, snuffling laugh and finally turned to face him, and he had to bite back a gasp. Her eyes were red from tears, her face splotchy, and so vulnerable it hurt his heart. He hadn't known how scared she had really been until that moment. It was all over her face, fear not daring to change to relief.

"I couldn't let them see," she said, waving a hand to indicate herself – her fear, her love, her anything.

"I know," was all he said, because he did. He, more than anyone else, knew how much that façade meant to her. It was her armor and sword and shield all in one.

She bowed her head, shoulders shaking still, and he threw caution to the wind. Maybe it was the silence, maybe just the rush of the day; he didn't know and didn't care.

He sat on the bench beside her and slipped an arm around her shoulders.

She crumpled against him and began to cry, still choking back her tears, but at least they were falling now.

"I wanted to kill him," she managed between sobs. "I really did. Andy, what he did – I should never have let Rusty go."

"It's over," he murmured in her ear, not thinking about what to say. "Rusty's fine, Sharon. Daniel's out of his life for good. _You _did that. You hear?" He tilted her chin to bring her eyes to his, looked her straight in the eyes. "You did that. You protected him."

"Did I?" The words were harsh, bitter. "Did I really?"

"_Yes," _he said insistently, gripping her chin more firmly. "You gave Daniel a chance, you both did, and he betrayed you, but Sharon, that's _not your fault." _

"I know that," she cried, "I do, up here," and she tapped her temple. "But _here," _she continued, voice wrecked, hand to her heart, "I can't… I took him in, and neither of us wanted it, but now I don't know what I'd do without him and he got hurt on _my_ watch and – "

"And you cleaned him up, got him through it, and got the bastard who did it out of his life for good. You were magnificent, Sharon. I've never – I've never been so proud to know you."

"I couldn't have done it without you," she said at last when the tears stopped flowing, and she rested her head on his shoulder. "Thank you, Andy, for everything. From the beginning. You've always stood by me. I can't… thank you."

"He's a good kid." Tentatively, he took her hand, and she curled her fingers around his with a soft sigh. "You're so good for him, Sharon."

She looked at him, dewy eyes so green in the sunlight. "I am." She laughed a little, as though the knowledge surprised her. "I really am, aren't I."

"Yeah." He squeezed her hand, felt her squeeze back. "Yeah, you really are."

She smiled, and her face lit up like fireworks on the Fourth. "I hear," she said, standing and smoothing the skirt of her dress, "that there's a bit of a celebration going on at the diner."

"Yeah." He couldn't keep the grin from his own face as he offered his arm. "May I do the honor?"

She just smiled again and took his arm.

The squad had crowded into an enormous booth by the window. Provenza had his arm hooked around Rusty, giving the kid what was undeniably a noogie while Rusty flailed his hands amid bouts of laughter. Buzz was on Rusty's other side, deep in conversation with Tao, but still managed to smack Provenza's arm without breaking conversation. On Provenza's other side, Sykes and Sanchez were openly snickering, heads bent close in undeniable conspiracy. And a couple of booths away, Agent Howard cheerfully sipped what was undoubtedly disgustingly sweet tea as Taylor high-fived everyone at the larger booth before going back to the table he shared with the FBI agent.

What those two were plotting, Andy didn't want to know.

Next to him, Sharon was smiling and trying not to cry, all at once.

"Excuse me," Andy said as they pushed open the door, "but I hear there's a party going on. Room for two more?"

All conversation stopped.

And then, as if it had been planned, the entire Major Case squad rose to its feet and burst into applause.

Andy slipped into the booth next to Tao, didn't bother to sit, and clapped so hard his hands hurt.

Sharon just stared, hand over her mouth.

"Oh," she said, clearly stunned. "Please, everyone, I can't… oh." She bit her lip, bowed her head, and wiped away the tears. "Thank you. No, I mean that. Thank you. All of you."

"To the Captain," said Provenza, lifting his glass.

"No," said Sharon, squeezing into the booth next to Andy. "To all of us."


End file.
